


Chasing Shadows

by dracox_serdriel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Character Struggle, Coda, Episode: s05e02 Good God Y'all!, Gen, Season/Series 05
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-19
Updated: 2013-08-12
Packaged: 2017-12-23 07:04:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/923381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dracox_serdriel/pseuds/dracox_serdriel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>Coda to episode 05x02 Good God, Ya'll</em>. The Winchesters break apart under the weight of the Apocalypse.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dean Chasing Shadows

**Author's Note:**

> **Cross-posted** : Read _Chasing Shadows_ on [LJ](http://dracox-serdriel.livejournal.com/44681.html), [Tumblr](http://dracox-serdriel.tumblr.com/post/151257652126/chasing-shadows-supernatural-one-shot), or [FF](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/12174362/1/Chasing-Shadows)

Dean was sitting at some shitty picnic table across from his brother doing everything he could to hide his disappointment. His father told him to watch out for Sam, and Dean failed spectacularly. Every second he spent with his kid brother reaffirmed that fact. 

Would he ever see his brother again? That boy he made Spaghettios for? The one that cried when he learned monsters were real? The man he yanked out of Stanford University to go on a 'hunting trip'? The man he sold his soul to bring back?

That was exactly what he had done: revived Sam. At the time, he thought his act of sacrifice would save his brother; instead, it condemned him. Dean should've known that Sam would go off the rails after his dead. Hell, when he'd seen Sam's dead body, he'd fallen apart. Why did he expect his brother's reaction to be any different than his own?

He distracted himself from his thoughts and the impending Apocalypse as he always did, with a glib remark. 

"So, pit stop at Mount Doom?" he asked as he held up the ring they pilfered from War's hand. 

Sam began, "Dean - "

He couldn't do it. Not this conversation. Not now. 

"Sam, let's not," he interrupted.

"No, listen," Sam pressed. "This is important. I know you don't trust me."

He clenched his jaw. He didn't trust his brother, and he had no one to blame but himself. 

"Just, now I realize something," Sam continued. "I don't trust me either."

Dean's eyes returned to Sam's face, unbelieving. All the pop media crap of Alcoholics Anonymous came to the forefront of his mind. Wasn't admitting to the problem the first step? 

"From the minute I saw that blood, it was the only thought in my head," Sam said, rapidly devolving into his inane babble voice. "And I tell myself it's for the right reasons, my intentions are good, and it, it feels true, you know? But I think, underneath - I just miss the feeling."

Dean realized that AA was about addiction. There was nothing for Not-Being-A-Demonic-Asshole, which is what Sammy really needed. His brother was still speaking, but he wasn't really hearing any of it, even though he forced himself to listen.

"The problem's me. How far I'll go. There's something in me that... scares the hell out of me, Dean. In the last couple of days, I caught another glimpse."

Dean asked, "So what are you saying?"

"I'm in no shape to be hunting. I need to step back, 'cause I'm dangerous. Maybe it's best we just...go our separate ways."

He wondered what would happen to Sam out in the world, alone. He couldn't trust that Sam would keep on the straight and narrow; Dean's Hell tour proved that. Then again, he couldn't trust his brother or on the job.

Bottom line: Dean couldn't trust Sam at all.

"Well, I think you're right," Dean replied.

"I was expecting a fight."

"The truth is I spend more time worrying about you than about doing the job right," he said, softening the blow with a half-truth. "And I just, I can't afford that, you know? Not now."

Sam nodded. "I'm sorry, Dean."

"I know you are, Sam."

The younger Winchester stood up from the table.

"Hey, do you, uh, wanna take the Impala?"

"It's okay."

Sam walked away. As if it just occurred to him, he turned back to add, "Take care of yourself, Dean."

"Yeah, you too, Sammy."

Sam grabbed his backpack out of the Impala and walked over to a nearby pickup truck. The driver behind the wheel glanced over, and Sam casually asked for a ride. 

Dean watched as his brother drove off with a stranger. 'Dean Winchester,' he thought to himself, 'This is your life: your brother abandoning you, going off with a stranger.'

He needed a drink.


	2. Sam Chasing Shadows

The Horseman of War imparted some very unpleasant truths to Sam. As Sally Kempton said, "It's hard to fight an enemy who has outposts in your head."

Demons set up shop in his head – no, in his blood – when he was an infant. He thought he could defend himself, his family, his future from the denizens of Hell by tapping into his powers. 

But that psychic strength had a double-edged. He mutated his mind, his soul with every strike, every demon he banished back to Hell. Dean could see it. Cas could see it. Anna sat with them for three seconds in the car and saw it. Somehow, Sam chose over and over again to let it happen, telling himself that becoming a monster was the only way to destroy the demons ahead. 

He knew better. He had witnessed his own father and brother defeat evil while remaining steeped in their humanity. Sam told himself that it was just weakness, and it became easier to easier to lie to himself. 

Why the Hell didn't he just listen to Dean?

Sam Winchester screwed up his courage. The Horseman's presence had made it clear to the younger Winchester that lying to himself would not save him, so he had to admit everything. His doubts, his perceptions, his failures, everything. And not just to himself, but to his brother as well.

All Dean asked was, "So what are you saying?"

What was he saying? Sam swallowed hard, "I'm in no shape to be hunting. I need to step back, 'cause I'm dangerous. Maybe it's best we just...go our separate ways."

Eons passed as Dean's jaw tightened. Sam braced himself for the impending shit-storm he knew would follow.

"Well, I think you're right," Dean replied.

"I was expecting a fight," Sam said, the words escaping him before he had a chance to stop himself.

"The truth is I spend more time worrying about you than about doing the job right. And I just, I can't afford that, you know? Not now."

He nodded. The English language did not contain a word or phrase that expressed the depth of his regret, the length of his sorrow, the height of his shame. 

So Sam said, "I'm sorry, Dean."

"I know you are, Sam." 

Sam's insides squirmed as he stood up to leave. 

Dean's voice stopped him. "Hey, do you, uh, wanna take the Impala?"

"It's okay," Sam said automatically. He had lived in that car for months while Dean rotted in a pine box, and he never wanted to do it again.

Sam suddenly realized he had walked away from Dean, lost in his own thoughts. He looked back at his brother.

"Take care of yourself, Dean."

"Yeah, you too, Sammy."

Sam grabbed his backpack out of the Impala and walked over to a nearby pickup truck. The driver behind the wheel glanced over at him. 

"Can I get a ride?" 

"Where?" the driver asked.

"Wherever you're headed. I'll get out somewhere," Sam replied simply.

The driver nodded and said, "Hop aboard. I'm Ernie. Born and raised in Seattle. You?"

"Kansas City, Kansas," Sam lied. "Call me Sam."

He did his best not to glance back at Dean as Ernie from Seattle drove off. Apparently, Ernie had taken a long drive because he and his family had a falling out. They were in the same boat. 

Sam had no idea where to retreat. His life at Stanford was a distant memory, and abandoning hunting meant Bobby's was off-limits, too. 

It was too much. Lucifer, the end. No, Sam needed to be someone else, even if only for a little while.


	3. Castiel Chasing Shadows

Castiel was a soldier, and he admired the nature of the Winchesters. They were flawed, just as all humans, but they were warriors. He observed John Winchester in the throws of his fury and grief; indeed, that had been the angel's introduction to the family. At the tender age of four, Dean grabbed his infant brother and ran from the burning house, his father's commandment ringing in his ears. 

Cas wondered if Dean realized that moment would be an apt microcosm for the rest of his life. Now, the house was on fire with the Apocalypse, and Dean lifted his brother only to discover that this time, he wasn't able to run. The pain the Winchesters felt was so profound it made the angel hide his face, for the grief of his human family burdened even his Grace. 

The angel remained invisible as Sam and Dean conversed at the wooden outdoor table.

"Sam, let's not."

"No, listen. This is important. I know you don't trust me."

Dean couldn't meet his brother's eye, but Sam continued anyway, "Just, now I realize something. I don't trust me either."

Castiel should be looking for God right now, using the pendant Dean provided, for that was, after all, his mission to avert the Apocalypse. But he stood, transfixed, between his two friends, and for a few terrifying moments, they reminded him of his angelic brothers.

Lucifer lashed out and marshaled a force when he fell from Heaven. His pride cost him his place among his brethren, and his sin bloomed into wrath. Michael stood against him, stern and strong yet melancholy, for a victory against his own brother was no victory at all.

Sam spoke with genuine honesty, "I tell myself it's for the right reasons, my intentions are good, and it, it feels true, you know? But I think, underneath, I just miss the feeling." 

Lucifer refused to acknowledge that he was in error. Never once did he ask for forgiveness, and he certainly never expressed regret. 

"I know how messed up that sounds, which means I know how messed up I am. Thing is, the problem's not the demon blood, not really. I mean, I, what I did, I can't blame the blood or Ruby or - anything. The problem's me," Sam said. 

Cas tilted his head thoughtfully. Whatever fleeting reflection he saw of Michael and Lucifer dissipated. Dean's disposition was too broken to be Michael, and Sam's humility and honesty revealed his inner nature. The boy with demon blood, despite everyone's constant efforts, grew up to be a good man. 

"So what are you saying?"

"I'm in no shape to be hunting."

Castiel teleported away. He couldn't watch two brothers that were once so close struggle and tear at one another, and he couldn't listen to whatever plea Sam had in store. 

Maybe time had soothed the memory of the pain from the battle between Lucifer and Michael. Whatever the reason, the Apocalypse seemed a bloody battle laid over barren, distant lands, while Dean and Sam's feud struck directly at his heart. 

Before Gabriel's disappearance, he told Castiel, "That which is grafted to your Grace imperceptibly becomes part of you. Only time is needed." As Cas stood over the Grand Canyon, he wondered if this sense of inevitable doom and loss was what Gabriel had meant.

**Author's Note:**

>  **Author's note** : Originally written in July 2013, _Chasing Shadows_ was re-proofed and updated again in September 2016.


End file.
